


Broken Bones and Tattered Clothes

by LadyShadowphyre



Series: tumblr prompt basket [24]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Grace Mechanics, Boys Kissing, Castiel Is Shy About His Wings, Castiel Still Wants Sam To Touch His Wings A Lot, Castiel Thinks Sam's Soul Is Beautiful, Castiel Understands Boundaries, Daphne Allen (mentioned) - Freeform, Dean Winchester (mentioned) - Freeform, Hannah (mentioned) - Freeform, Kissing, Lucifer (mentioned) - Freeform, M/M, Michael (mentioned) - Freeform, Naked Cuddling, Nonsexual Intimacies, Nudity, Relationship Discussions, Sam Winchester is Sensitive to Grace, Sam is Overly Cautious About Boundaries, Sam's Time Soulless Discussed, Shower Sharing, Touch Therapy, Touch-Starved Castiel, Wing Grooming, nonsexual showers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 05:04:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13228653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShadowphyre/pseuds/LadyShadowphyre
Summary: Castiel has been rescued from Heaven and Naomi's tortures, but recovery is a process even for angels. Sam is more than willing to do whatever he can to help the angel he loves and who loves him recover fully, and luckily Castiel is just as willing to let him.





	Broken Bones and Tattered Clothes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zetal (Rodinia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Escape](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11929503) by [Zetal (Rodinia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/pseuds/Zetal). 



> Set AU after Season 7, where Castiel and Dean ducked the exploding Dick and so weren't sucked into Purgatory, Crowley never kidnapped Kevin and so he never got ahold of the Demon Tablet and discovered the Trials, the boys still end up living in the Men of Letters bunker after Abbadon chased Henry Winchester through time, and Castiel still ends up needing to be rescued from Naomi's attempts at brainwashing. During the rescue a couple secrets regarding Castiel's feelings came to light, and after the rescue a few more revelations happen. This is the aftermath.
> 
> Title from Pentatonix ["Run to You"](https://youtu.be/sp7PS_UN8Lo).

**D** ESPITE THE TYPICALLY tactless way in which Dean made to excuse himself from the inevitable awkwardness following Sam's somewhat impromptu confession, he wasn't going to complain about the lack of witnesses to the conversation he knew would have to follow between himself and Castiel. Looking at the angel sitting slumped back in the chair and still watching him with a mix of wary hope and pained disbelief, Sam got the feeling that a large part of the conversation could probably wait until Castiel was a little more sure of reality. Sam owed his sanity to Castiel in a very real way, and he could still remember how it felt to question whether everything he was experiencing was even real or a hallucination cooked up by his captor or, even worse, by his own steadily breaking mind.

"You, um... have some blood, still..." he said after a moment, gesturing under his nose to indicate the line of crimson still sitting stark against Castiel's pale face. Guilt snapped at him as Castiel lifted a slightly shaking hand to touch the indicated spot, looking surprised that his fingers came away red.

Sam made himself shove the guilt away; he hadn't actually been the one to hurt Castiel, Naomi had using illusions of him. Sam had been the one to get him out of Naomi's clutches, along with Dean and Hannah, and now Sam was the one here to help pick up the pieces. He didn't know what he could do to help, but he was going to try, and he had a couple lifetimes of experience with various aftermaths of battle and torture to draw from.  _ Basic triage _ , he remembered learning.  _ Start with the physical, the wounds you can see. _

"Any injuries that need cleaning or setting so your Grace has less work to do healing them?" he asked carefully, not wanting to risk offending Castiel by implying that he couldn't heal his own injuries without help while still giving him the option to accept help if he did need it. From wan cast to the slight smile the angel managed for him, he'd probably read Sam's intent anyway.

"The physical wounds to my vessel have all healed," Castiel said gently. "Any lingering damage is to my Grace, and only time and rest will heal that. I... would not mind a cup of tea, however... if you do not mind helping me to the kitchen?"

Because of course Castiel would remember that conversation back in Bobby's kitchen in the middle of the night, with his Grace fading and being unwilling to sleep while Sam was unable to sleep without seeing Lucifer. Castiel had expressed frustration at the way Dean and Bobby kept offering him food or alcohol when he still had need of neither, and Sam had struggled to explain that quirk of human behavior.

_ "It's not really about you needing it, not really," _ he'd said awkwardly.  _ "It's just... you're hurt, but not in a way they can see and patch up with some stitches or gauze, but they're still worried about you, still wanting to do something to help. So they offer food or beer as a way of bypassing the chick-flick stuff, uh, the talking about feelings stuff, and go straight to just... showing you that they care, that they're here for you if you need them, even if all they can actually do for you is make you a sandwich or a cup of tea or... something like that." _

"Yeah, I... I can do that," Sam said, nodding and ducking his head a little as he tried to keep what felt like an inappropriate grin firmly in check.  _ Next comes the mental wounds, the wounds to heart and mind and soul. Those are harder to patch up, take more care, and are hell to try and heal when you're a Winchester. _ And Castiel certainly qualified as a Winchester after everything they had been through together.

"Thank you, Sam," Castiel murmured, looking almost shyly pleased. It changed briefly to a look of apprehension as he shifted forward at the same time that Sam took a step towards him to help him out of the chair. Sam froze, for a moment terrified that even with their practically explicit confessions he had read this whole thing wrong. Then Castiel was reaching out to him with both hands, hope warring with trepidation, and Sam felt his feet carry him close enough that he could grasp those hands, slightly smaller than his but no less strong and capable for their comparative size even discounting that the body's occupant was an angel.

As their hands folded together, the tension visibly seeped out of Castiel, wariness chased away by relief. It made Sam blink in surprise, and Castiel ducked his head slightly in something like embarrassment.

"Naomi's illusions were crafted with her misconceptions to shape them," he explained, thumbs stroking over the backs of Sam's hands. "She tried to emulate what she thought your soul would feel like, but she could never get it right. It was always... obvious to me that it was fake." His fingers flexed, squeezing Sam's hands lightly. "In Heaven when you stood near to me, and here when we touch, I can feel your soul, its light and warmth glowing so beautifully within your body, permeating your being, and I know that this is real."

He leaned forward, this time more obviously trying to get up, and Sam stepped back, tightening his hold on Castiel's hand and pulling him up and out of the chair. He stepped in quickly to steady the angel when Castiel wavered once on his feet, one arm going around his shoulders in support. Instead of simply using Sam to stay upright, however, Castiel leaned against him, turning his head enough to press his nose against the collar of Sam's shirt and breathing in.

"Hm. She could not get the illusion to smell right, either," he mumbled, making Sam flush a bright red. He wasn't sure he wanted to know just how Castiel got close enough to the illusion to tell its scent, or how often. What little of the very one-sided fight he'd witnessed while Dean was marking the warding glyphs was bad enough. Of course, that still left the question of just how Castiel had managed to learn what Sam smelled like so precisely that he could tell a fake by scent, but that was a lot more awkward to contemplate at the moment and probably had a much more innocent explanation than the one his inner voice (which sounded disturbingly like Dean) was suggesting. He swallowed down the question.

"Let's get you that tea," he said instead, though he made no move to step away or start leading the way to the kitchen. A thought had occurred to him, most likely brought on by the mention of the "light and warmth" of his soul, though it might also have been the mention of smell which he was trying not to let turn into self-consciousness about his current post rescue mission odor. "Or, well... if you think warmth would help, you could try a shower."

"A... shower?" Castiel repeated, tilting his head up to look at Sam curiously, and Sam tried not to mentally congratulate himself too loudly for recognizing the difference in Castiel's curiosity as 'what good do you think this human activity will do for me?' rather than 'what is this of which you speak'? He knew the angel still sometimes used the latter on Dean just to mess with him, and Sam liked that he could tell the difference. He suspected that Castiel liked that he could tell the difference, too, and he was stalling in his own mind now because Castiel was starting to look more concerned than curious.

"Lucifer burns cold," Sam made himself say in a low voice. He felt Castiel tense beside him and swallowed, but plowed on. "When I was hallucinating... and now, whenever I wake up from a nightmare of being back in the Cage, it helps me a lot to go stand under a hot shower. It didn't always work completely when we were in the motels with the crappy water heaters that cut out too soon, but even just being in the shower, standing under the falling water for a little while and letting it wash away the sweat..." He shrugged awkwardly, eyes darting away. "It helped me feel clean again inside as well as out. Or at least pretend like I could be clean, anyway."

"Sam...."

It's soft, almost nothing more than a breath, just his name almost whispered in familiar gravelly tones. There's an undercurrent to it, however, that twists in Sam's gut sharply, a low hum of hesitancy that whispers hints of another conversation that Sam has been peripherally aware of hovering at the edges of his interactions with Castiel since the Apocalypse, possibly as far back as the night before Carthage, and lingers in every hesitance between them since. It's a conversation that Sam has always ducked or side-stepped, subconsciously terrified to have it confirmed one way or another what the angel keeps wanting to try and say to him.

He was no closer to being brave enough for that conversation today than he was then, even with the still mind-boggling knowledge that the angel loves him, and so he forced a grin to his lips and added, "And anyway, the best thing the bunker has going for it is the amazing water pressure and heating tank capacity."

"I see," Castiel said quietly. From his tone, Sam could guess that the angel really did see, possibly more than Sam wanted to admit was there to be seen. He risked a glance up at Castiel's face to find the angel watching him with a compassionate expression that quickly shifted to a more neutrally thoughtful one when he noticed that Sam was looking at him. "And you would be willing to assist me in this endeavor as well?"

"Um," Sam managed, eyes wide, feeling his heart leap in his chest at the same time his stomach clenched painfully with nerves. Castiel's eyes narrowed slightly, brows drawing together uncertainly as he tried to work out the nuances of Sam's reaction. Sam swallowed. "Are you sure that's something you want? I mean, I don't know how it might be for angels given the difference between inhabiting a physical body and being an uncondensed multi-dimensional wavelength of celestial intent, but it's a pretty intimate thing among humans...."

"In some cultures, because of the taboo regarding clothing or lack thereof and the acceptable situations in which clothing can be discarded," Castiel finished when Sam trailed off awkwardly. That knowing lack of surprise was back in the angel's eyes, though he looked slightly more sad than before. "I am aware of this, and I do understand the feeling of vulnerability that being unclothed can create among humans who are used to maintaining a certain level of coverage when around others, Sam. Please be assured that, while I have no such reservations regarding being unclothed in your presence unless it would discomfit you, I do not expect you to share my lack of reservation." His eyes lowered, lips pressing together briefly in a very human expression of personal annoyance. "You may have noticed, however, that I am still somewhat unsteady and may need to be accompanied during the shower even if you choose not to disrobe and join me under the water."

"I wasn't gonna mention it," Sam murmured, lips twitching up slightly as Castiel looked up sharply. The angel relaxed again at the apparent indication of lighthearted teasing, fitting his vessel more comfortably against Sam's side.

"I am sorry for that, too," Castiel apologised quietly, glancing away again. "Frustrated as I was at the time, that was still not kind of me to say, nor entirely truthful in its implications."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Sam insisted gently, cheeks heating. This close, the tiny tremors in Castiel's usually steady frame were more apparent, silent testimony to how much effort it was taking to keep himself upright even with Sam to lean against. He swallowed and tightened his hold carefully before turning them both towards the showers. "I mean, I can understand why you would have shut me down like that at the time. I was kind of a dick without my soul...."

"You were blunt and honest and entirely logical," Castiel broke in, shaking his head even as he kept pace with Sam, still leaning on him for support. "You mimicked emotional responses because that's what your memories told you the response should be, but you did not necessarily feel the emotions that would have driven them in truth, save perhaps the most instinctual, such as fear, which would have accompanied your soulless self's acts of self-preservation. You were--" He hesitated, grimacing. "Forgive me for saying so, but your actions and responses without a soul were often... very angelic."

"Ouch," Sam said, forcing his tone lighter and more joking to cover the wince he couldn't suppress. From that standpoint it wasn't even a surprise that Castiel had been more sharp with his soulless self than usual, especially if Castiel really could tell the difference that having his soul "in residence" made. Maybe that was even why he could recognize it now, having been around him without it and then touched it to make sure it was really there after Death brought him fully out of the Cage and hooked him back up.

Maybe part of why Castiel was still leaning on him as they walked was to keep solid contact with Sam's properly souled self as his apparent anchor to reality.  _ Much like that handprint on Dean's shoulder anchors him to life. _

"It's not like it was a lie, though," Sam said after a moment. At Castiel's curious look, he elaborated. "The whole 'profound bond' thing. I understand now that you didn't mean it the way it sounded at the time, but it wasn't a lie. You and Dean do share a pretty unusual bond that you and I don't, or didn't then. You, uh, might wanna consider telling him about it before he gets fed up with other angels commenting and gets the wrong explanation," he added with a small wince, remembering the way Balthazar had snarked at Dean about Castiel being in love with him. He hadn't thought anything of it at the time, just as his soulless self hadn't thought anything of Balthazar's "boyfriend" comment, but in light of their earlier confessions Sam found he didn't particularly like other angels assuming Castiel was in love with his brother because they couldn't read the Grace patterns correctly.

And Castiel was looking at him with wide eyes. "You... understand?"

"Lucifer, uh, got chatty," Sam admitted, glancing away. "In those couple of days before Stull. Can't really blame him, he was surrounded by demons and I was a literal captive audience, so...." He shrugged awkwardly. "Anyway, he went on this rant about you, uh, 'contaminating Michael's vessel', and explained what he meant when I asked. At length," he added with a not entirely faked sigh of long endured suffering. "So I can see how you could call Dean being your literal lifeline a 'more profound bond' than us being friends, and soulless me just kinda extrapolated that you liked Dean better because the bond you had with him made you harder to kill, and survival instinct was something I still understood even without my soul, so I never really took offense to that." The thought that Castiel liking Dean better for that lifeline possibly meaning he didn't like him all that much otherwise and so didn't actually like Sam either had been a much more discouraging extrapolation, but Sam refrained from saying so. It was obvious now that it had been untrue, and it would just hurt Castiel now to know his soulless self had made that logical leap.

"I see," Castiel said again, sounding a little shaken this time. The two were silent for a long moment, each of them processing the other's words. As they reached the entrance to the residential hallways, the angel asked hesitantly. "Sam? Can I ask why you avoided the hug I wished to give you when you called me down after regaining your soul?"

_ Hoo boy _ ...

"It's..." Complicated, he wanted to say, but stopped himself. Castiel deserved an answer, especially now, and it was something they should probably address if they wanted to try and build a relationship together. That expression of sadness from earlier when Castiel had been explaining his lack of expectations regarding physical intimacy flashed across Sam's mind and he grimaced. "Most of this is conjecture after the fact since my head was kind of sectioned off at the time and the wall wasn't easy to leave alone."

"I noticed," Castiel broke in dryly, making Sam snort softly. Considering the time they were talking about had been when Sam had called Castiel down to try and probe into what he was missing about that time, the angel probably knew better than anyone else how badly Sam had taken the command to not scratch the wall.

"Right," Sam sighed gustily, looking up at the bunker ceiling as he ordered his thoughts. "So, I called, but I was halfway expecting you to ignore me given Dean's rather vague talk about how things were going. And then I turned around and you were there and--" Sam broke off, swallowing against the tightness trying to form in his throat. "You looked... so happy to see me. Happier than I'd ever seen you look before when it was just me there. And then you reached out and I got... flashes. Not full on memories or anything, just little flickers at the edge of my mind of all the different ways it could be a trick or an illusion or something, and I just..."

"You were afraid I would harm you," Castiel said quietly, his tone matter of fact but achingly sad, and Sam shook his head quickly.

"I was afraid you weren't real," he clarified. "I made that comment about it being awkward because I felt awkward and unsure and I couldn't remember you ever smiling at me like that. I desperately wanted you to be real, but I couldn't bear to reach out and touch you then and find out you weren't. It's not something I could have even put into words consciously at the time, but looking back now, especially after what you said about being able to feel my soul... I get it. It would have broken me to reach out to you and feel Lucifer's ice or Michael's fire instead of your summer rain."

"....You perceive my Grace as rain?" Castiel asked. There were several questions packed in there, Sam could tell, and all of them complicated in their own right, so he picked the two that were least complicated to answer.

" _ Summer _ rain," he emphasized. "Warm and soft and scattered tapping with an underlying rumble of thunder off in the distance, far enough away that anyone standing out in the rain doesn't have to worry about being struck by lightning. It's a good feeling, Cas, I promise."

"I see," Castiel said. Sam hoped the awe in the angel's tone meant that he really did see, that he understood everything Sam was meaning to convey about safety and happiness and freedom and-- "Is that why you suggested the shower? Because the falling water reminds you more of the rain, even if the temperature is hotter than you would find outside in a storm?"

"I... maybe a little?" Sam shrugged again, considering the question. He had always preferred showers over baths, but he had thought that was mostly due to residual hunter paranoia, disliking the vulnerability of being naked and sitting or lying partially submerged in water while penned in by the tiny motel bathtubs. "Of course, the water pressure these showers have is a lot harder than any rainstorm I'd want to be out in," he added lightly, grinning down at Castiel to share the joke.

"Of course," Castiel agreed solemnly, though there was a hint of smile on his face. It faded after a moment and he added pensively, "I was not aware that you had become so attuned to angelic Grace as to differentiate among the resonances the way you describe. When, ah..."

"When did I notice?" Sam guessed. At Castiel's nod, he sighed. "It's awful, I know, but I first really, consciously noticed it at the Elysian Fields Hotel. Lucifer was trashing the place and killing gods left and right, and then Gabriel was there beside me and Dean and I felt..." He broke off, swallowing. "I don't know if I would have even noticed if he hadn't been right next to me, practically pressed up against me when it happened, but it felt like I'd imagine it would be to have a tidal wave breaking over my head, immense power cresting and crashing and sweeping outwards. And then he stood up and blasted Lucifer away from Kali, and that feeling was suddenly crashing like thunder and lightning directly overhead, like a... a monsoon or something."

"Then... you know...?" Castiel began awkwardly.

"That you were one of Gabriel's before he pulled a disappearing act? Yeah, I figured that one out," Sam admitted quietly, remembering all the little unspoken hints and nuances in their interactions in that warehouse. "In retrospect, I could recognize the feeling as a way stronger version of what I felt whenever you used your Grace to heal me or Dean or fly us somewhere, but I thought that was just what angelic Grace was supposed to feel like until... Detroit."

When he had said Yes to Lucifer and discovered that the Morningstar burned bright and cold inside his flesh. And then in Stull Cemetery, when he had grabbed Michael in Adam's body as he flung himself into the Cage with Michael's Grace burning against him like a raging, erupting volcano. Castiel's hand reaching up to touch Sam's where it rested on the angel's shoulder brought him back to the present. He breathed in slowly and lifted a finger to touch back gratefully, letting the breath out in a long sigh as he tried to shake off the lingering echoes of despair brought on by remembering Gabriel and his sacrifice.

"I should probably warn Hannah to be cautious of physical contact around you, then," Castiel said abruptly. Sam blinked in surprise, looking down at the angel in silent question, which Castiel proved as capable of correctly interpreting from Sam's expression as Sam was at interpreting Castiel's intonations. "She supported me against Raphael, but she was one of Heliel's before his Fall and retains the same resonant frequency in her Grace."

Heliel. Lucifer, before jealousy and hatred took root in him and turned his reflection of Heaven's Light false. Sam couldn't suppress the shudder that went through him, wincing a little as the motion jostled Castiel, and tightened his hold on the angel apologetically.

"I wouldn't worry about it, Cas," he said as they reached the end of the hall and the door to the showers. "Hannah isn't exactly comfortable with being around me any more than most other angels besides you, so if it's at a point where she's using her Grace on me we've probably got other things to worry about than feeling a little chill."

"Perhaps," Castiel said, slanting a glance up at Sam. "Though perhaps it is Hannah who would benefit more from the contact, in her understanding if nothing else."

"I'm perfectly okay with you being the only angel interested in touching me, Cas," Sam teased gently as he reached out with his free hand to open the door. He nearly swallowed his tongue when Castiel slanted a narrow, almost sly glance up at him as he very deliberately stroked his thumb over the back of Sam's hand.

"I will take that under advisement," the angel said, low voice practically a purr. Then, like flipping a switch, his voice was back to normal bland curiosity as he asked, "Have you decided if you will be joining me in this shower?"

As if Sam could possibly think about sharing a shower with this gorgeous angel he loved without thinking  _ things _ about what they could be doing! He swallowed tightly, trying to will the heat from his cheeks, and hoped the close proximity wasn't also breaking down the barriers he knew Castiel kept up nowadays to avoid eavesdropping on his thoughts without permission. No reservations did not actually mean "anything goes", and there was a major difference between allowing something to happen and actively wanting it. The last thing Sam wanted to do in his attempt to help Castiel work through his recent ordeal was add to the problem.

"Are you sure you want me to?" he asked carefully, putting a slight but still noticeable emphasis on the word "want". Castiel's eyes sharpened slightly as he picked up on the deliberate wording.

"Is there any reason why you believe I should not want to share this act of physical intimacy with you?" he asked, head tilting to one side in that oh so familiar gesture of mingled puzzlement and layered scrutiny. Sam's chest felt tight.

"I believe," Sam said slowly and deliberately, choosing his words carefully with all the skill available to him from pre-law classes at Stanford so as to best convey his thoughts without offense, "that you've been through a harrowing ordeal, of which I only recently learned and don't know the details. And I'm not asking," he added quickly. "That's your choice to divulge or keep to yourself. But from what little I saw, I believe that you've been repeatedly hurt by someone using my image. I believe that you're grounding yourself in reality using the feel of my soul in the same way I'm grounding myself in the feel of your Grace." He hesitated, then added softly, "And I believe that, even if we both wish to explore our mutual feelings and enter a romantic relationship which may or may not include sexual contact as we both choose, it would not be wise to try and take that step towards sex when one or both of us is emotionally compromised."

"You doubt your ability to refrain from sexual advances," Castiel said slowly. When Sam nodded, blushing, the angel's frown deepened. "Do you also doubt my ability to refuse those advances which would be unwise or unwelcome? Or your own ability to honor any refusal I might give?"

"I doubt my ability to control my physical responses to being in close quarters with you while we're both naked," Sam admitted, nearly positive that his face had to be as red as his flannel right now. "Especially if you need us to keep physical contact. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Sam," Castiel said patiently, turning out of the curve of Sam's arm in order to reach up and put a hand on the human's shoulder and smiling softly up at Sam. "Unlike many of my brothers and sisters, I do have first hand experience with the... challenges... posed by the human body's reaction to stimulus, both physical and intellectual. I will not take offense to a physical expression of desire on your part for my vessel, and I trust you to, ah... 'keep your hands to yourself' in as much as is necessary to avoid pushing any boundaries you feel must be adhered to for now."

"And any boundaries you need me to stick to," Sam insisted, then bit his lip when Castiel looked up at him in confused surprise. "Or boundaries that you want to... shift. If it's something you want, actually want rather than just not objecting, we can talk about it."

"Of course," Castiel agreed, inclining his head. "As I hope you will discuss with me elements of courtship that you wish for us to participate in, given that my own frame of reference is entirely secondhand."

"Of course," Sam echoed, nodding. His own experience with dating was somewhat limited, but it was at least first-hand. Thinking the conversation over for the moment, Sam made to step away and help Castiel into the bathroom. He was stopped by the angel's hand on his chest halting his forward momentum, an uncharacteristically shy look slipping across his features. "Cas?"

"Sam... in the interest of proper communication and full disclosure, I would like to make perfectly clear my desire to be intimate with you as lovers, including sexually, and that your, ah, involuntary physical responses to stimulus will not be unreciprocated," Castiel admitted, glancing down briefly before lifting his gaze to meet Sam's once more. "I understand your reservations about acting on those responses while under stress and I intend to respect them as I respect you. I still find myself wanting to establish a declaration of intent."

"I'm guessing you mean something besides a verbal declaration," Sam said. There'd certainly been plenty of those in the last several minutes, after all.

"That is correct," Castiel nodded. "I have observed that among humans the act of kissing one another as a gesture of affection is more commonplace between lovers or romantic partners than between friends and family, at least in this country and present century. I would like to declare my intent to pursue a relationship based in our mutual love and respect for one another by kissing you, if you would permit me."

"We're not talking about kissing each other like the Pizza Man right now, right?" Sam couldn't help but ask, flushing a little. "I mean, later, maybe, sure, probably, but right now--"

"Right now I would like to kiss you the way Emmanuel Allen kissed his wife Daphne," Castiel clarified, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "Though my feelings for you are somewhat more complex than his were for her. The Pizza Man can wait."

"Just so we're clear," Sam murmured, trying not to look or sound as nervous as he suddenly felt. "Alright. Yes, Castiel, you may kiss me."

Castiel drew in an unneeded breath as he caught the implications in Sam's words. Sam met his wide, searching eyes squarely, blush still staining his cheeks, but resolute. He trusted Castiel. His angel would not abuse his use of the word.

Slowly, carefully, Castiel shifted around in front of Sam and shuffled forward, almost pressed directly against Sam's chest. He slid both hands up to rest on Sam's shoulders to steady himself as he lifted up on his toes, tilting his head back. Sam curled one arm around Castiel's waist to help hold him upright and lowered his head the rest of the way so that their lips could meet. Castiel's lips were dry and a little chapped, and there was a faint tang that Sam tried not to identify even as he parted his lips slightly to allow Castiel to take the lead. When the angel did, it was slow and soft and sweet, evoking feelings in Sam that he'd only ever felt once, with Jess: friendship, affection, reverence... love. It was as much a promise as a kiss, spoken without words directly from Castiel's Grace to Sam's soul through the conduit of their lips, and even without any sexual undertones it still left Sam feeling just a bit breathless as they drew apart once more, just standing there in each other's space as the feeling of connection between them slowly faded to a low, soft hum.

As a declaration of intent, Sam thought it was downright perfect.


End file.
